"I-"
"Parker! What are you doing sitting all the way over here?"
Who would have ever thought that I'd actually feel relieved to see Marissa Sandberg?
That is, of course, until she bounces her way right onto my lap.
Okay. So now I have a problem and I can tell that it hasn't gone unnoticed by Marissa. She flashes me a huge, mega-watt smile as she wiggles her bottom on my woody which unbeknownst to her, is because of another girl.
Awkward.
She wraps her arms around my neck before pulling me close. Then she whispers in my ear, "My, my, my, it's nice to see you too! Do you want me to take care of that little problem for you?"
Alright, first of all- don't ever call my junk little. Because it is so not little. It's totally massive. Like weapons of mass destruction massive.
Second- what the hell am I really supposed to say to that?
Of course I don't want her taking care of anything for me. Hell, I don't even want her on my lap right now. My eyes slide tentatively to Jordan who sits watching us with an expression of... I'm not even sure what that expression means. Although I do know enough to realize that it's not good. It doesn't exactly look like jealousy. Which is unfortunate because if it were, at least I would know that I was making some headway here.
All I know is that I've got to get this girl off me pronto if I have any hope of shoring up the damage that Hurricane Marissa just caused.
But I'm not quick enough because suddenly Marissa's hands are stroking all over me. It's like public molestation or something like that. And now I'm remembering why I dubbed her Marissa-the-barnacle.
This is definitely not a good situation for me because Jordan already thinks that I'm the male equivalent of the school slut. I really don't need to perpetuate that notion by having Marissa dry hump me in the middle of the cafeteria in front of about 300 students.
And a few extremely disinterested looking teachers as well.
Jordan quickly stands with her tray in hand. It doesn't look like she's even touched her lunch.
"Hey, you're not going to throw all that out, are you?"
Seriously, Max? That's all you can contribute to this conversation? Mentally I roll my eyes at him. He can be so freaking oblivious sometimes.
She looks down at her untouched tray. "No, you can have whatever you want."
Max sweeps everything off her tray and onto his own before digging in.
Jordan is doing an awesome impression of what ignoring me looks like but I'm not going to let her just walk away from me. Again. Because her walking away has developed into something of a pattern between us.
"Where are you going? Lunch isn't even over yet."
Her eyes slide back to mine. There's definitely some kind of emotion churning within her greenish-gold eyes. I just don't know what it is.
"I'm not really interested in dinner and a show." She grimaces before eyeing the ever bouncy and incredibly perky Marissa who is still grinding away on my lap. Thank God, there aren't small children present. This whole thing could be really scarring for them. Hell, I'm feeling pretty scarred at the moment. And, if I'm being completely honest, (which let's face it- I always am) a little victimized by the assault currently taking place. "I've lost my appetite anyway."
This lunch has not exactly worked out the way I planned. My intention was to try and chip away at that hard candy shell of hers so I could get to know her a little better. Instead, all I've managed to do is drive her away. Probably right into Hartley's waiting arms. I seriously want to throw Marissa from my lap.
"Jordan, wait, I need to talk with you." But she's already striding away from the table.
Marissa frowns at me. "Do you even know her, Parker?"
Arghhh! Just get off me!
"I do." None too gently I push her from me. She stumbles a bit as she gets to her feet.
"Parker!" Pouting, she bites down on her lower lip.
It's one of those- I'm a sexy little kitten looks.
But you know what? It's doing absolutely nothing for me because the one who actually matters, the one who refuses to give me the time of day, is all but running away from me right now.
"But I thought we were gonna..."
"Sorry," Grabbing my books, I take off after Jordan. She's practically out the cafeteria doors and I'm all but jogging to catch up with her. Out of the corner of my eye, I see people turning in their seats as they watch me run past.
This chick is seriously driving me insane! She makes me feel completely messed up inside. It's the worst feeling ever. And yet... when I'm around her and we're verbally sparring with each other, it's kind of the best feeling ever.
Does that even make sense?
Because I think it makes me sound totally masochistic. And not in a good way either...
Slamming through the cafeteria doors, I search the hallway for any sign of her. But it's empty.
She's gone.
And I'm seriously left wondering what the hell I'm going to do.
Chapter Eight
So here I am, twiddling my thumbs at the library.
Why, you ask?
Because, believe it or not, I've been stood up! Yes, that’s right, me, Parker Montgomery. Stood up. And at the library no less. It's like adding insult to injury as far as I'm concerned. Jordan is a complete no show. No text, no call, nothing! The chick has totally flaked out on me.
Un-freaking-believable!
I should have listened to my instincts where this girl was concerned. The ones that were screaming at me to run far, far away at break neck speed. Yep, after that first conversation, I pretty much knew I was a goner. And it's been totally downhill from there. The evidence is that I completely hauled ass to get here, committing all sorts of moving violations in the process, just so I could have her all to myself for an extra couple of minutes tonight.
And she can't even be bothered to show up!
There's unfortunately a name for guys like me... and I think we're all thinking it at the moment. I know I am.
I never thought I'd see the day when I was this hung up on a girl. Actually, I didn't think it was even possible. Somehow this chick has managed to crawl under my skin like some sort of nasty infection. One that's itchy and rashy. I'm wondering if there's some kind of ointment I can use to make this go away. Because at this point, I'd totally lube myself up to stop this in its tracks.
You know what else I can't figure out? Why anyone would actively seek out these feelings because they pretty much suck ass.
Glancing down at my cell phone, I quickly check the time. 6:25. She’s twenty-five freaking minutes late. We've been meeting here at the library for the past three weeks and Jordan has yet to miss one single tutoring session. In fact, she's always ridiculously early, like she actually enjoys hanging out here or something like that. Man, she takes everything so seriously. I've never met anyone who was wound so tightly around the axel.
That being said, I'd like to know where the hell she is right now.
My brow furrows as I mull over the possibilities. Could she have forgotten that today's Monday and we always meet on Mondays? Maybe she was in a car accident. Or... and I really don't want to think about this one, but... could she be knocking boots with Hartley?
Shooting to my feet, I decide that I'm going to drive over to her house and give that girl a piece of my mind. You're probably thinking that I don't have much to spare, but that's where you'd be wrong. I have plenty. I just like to conserve it for really important occasions. Like now.
The fact that Jordan has ditched me to get laid by Hartley has me seeing red.
Jealousy. Yeah, I totally recognize this feeling now. What's next? Am I going to follow the yellow brick road to Oz so the wizard can give me a freaking heart?
I don’t think so.
I'm in the midst of storming out of the library- and trust me, I've worked myself into a fine lather about Jordan getting it on with Hartley- that I almost don't hear my name being called. Except I find that vo
ice so completely annoying and grating that it triggers some kind of wincing reflex in me.
"Parker?"
See? I just winced again. That damnable voice could only belong to none other than-
"Parker," she shrieks with disbelief, "what are you doing here?"
I really have no other choice but to stop and acknowledge her. "Oh, hey, Emily."
You probably thought I was going to call her Cuckoo-for-Coco-Puffs or Cuckoo-Cha-Cho or one of the many other pet names I have for her, didn't you? Yeah, well, I just so happen to like my balls exactly where they are and would miss them if she ripped them off and blended them into a smoothie, so- no, I'll just stick with Emily.
To her face anyway.
She raises one, thinly-waxed-into-submission eyebrow. My gaze then slides to her sidekick and back on-again boyfriend, Max. His have-never-been-waxed-and-will-never-be-waxed-in-this-lifetime bushy eyebrows shoot up as well. He looks genuinely interested in what could have possessed me to drive all the way over to this large, red brick building that just so happens to house these strange rectangular objects with writing inside them.
And yeah, I totally get where they're coming from on that one so I can't exactly act all offended to be called out on it. Of course that doesn't mean I'm about to hand over my actual reason for being here either. That info is staying strictly locked up in the vault.
Ignoring her question, I ask one of my own. "So, I see you two crazy kids have finally worked things out."
Honestly, it was only a matter of time before Max got sucked back into Emily's drama filled rendition of a life. The guy needs a twelve step program to kick the Emily habit. Because trust me, that shit will kill you faster than smack.
And, as much as I'd like to, I can't exactly blame him for going back to her. Max, like most typical seventeen year old guys, just so happens to enjoy getting laid on a fairly regular basis which is why, historically, their break ups never last very long. I have to actually give him props for holding out as long as he did this time. I think it might be a record.
In answer, Ms. Ain't-All-There-In-The-Head wraps her body around Max like she's doing some strange impersonation of a boa constrictor. If this chick suddenly starts unhinging her jaw, I'm out of here.
As if that disturbing display of public affection wasn't quite enough to repel me, she starts tonguing him. Literally. She's literally licking the side of his face before suddenly latching onto his mouth. It's like a terrible traffic accident you just can't look away from. No matter how much you may want to. I wince a little, watching in horrified fascination. Man, she is really going to town over there.
You know, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if she went all praying mantis on him one day and ate his head. FYI- praying mantises do that to their mates after they’ve done the nasty. I could totally see Captain Crazy offing Max’s head in just such a fashion.
Jeez, it was just a simple question, people.
I don't need to witness some R rated reenactment of what they do alone together. Or not alone together as is currently being demonstrated. In the parking lot. No one should be subjected to the public mauling that's currently taking place in front of me. It's just not right. My wolfed down dinner suddenly starts churning in my gut. I think it might be looking for a way out. There's really only so much of this I can handle without spewing my burger and fries everywhere.
So I clear my throat.
Loudly.
Twice.
Make that three times.
Okay, I'm just leaving before they actually start going at it like a couple of feral cats in heat.
I feel like my retinas have been permanently scarred by this little impromptu demonstration of how happy Lunatic Fringe is to be reunited with the love of her psychotic life.
Ugh.
"Wait," gasping, she finally comes up for air before prying herself away from Max's face, "wait!"
I'm happy to report that Max's head still looks intact. I'm just barely able to keep from rolling my eyes as I answer with a bored, "Yeah?"
"You never said what you were doing here at the library." Her red lipstick is totally smeared. All over Max's dazed looking face. He looks like a toddler who just finished eating a tube of his mother's lipstick. Just in case you're wondering, it's not a good look for him.
I should have left when I had the chance.
They both seem to be waiting for an answer. Hmmm. What would be a plausible explanation as to why I'm at the library? Think, think, think. Why would Parker Montgomery be at the library... Man, that's a tough one. The Jeopardy theme music starts playing in my head.
Okay- so here's what I figure my options are:
A) I wanted to check out a book.
Nope, they'd never buy it. I don't even think I could say it with a straight face anyway.
B) I was lost and needed directions.
No... Not believable enough. Everyone has GPS on their phone.
Hmmm, what could I possibly say to get this head case off my back?
Alex Trebek is patiently waiting for an answer and it suddenly appears that I'm out of time.
"I'm, uh, you know, getting a little busy with one of the librarian chicks here," I finally improvise.
They both nod as if this makes perfect sense. Apparently that was a completely believable explanation as to why I'd be at the library. I can't help but frown at the pair of them. Maybe I really am the man whore Jordan accused me of being. At this point, anything's possible.
"A little hot librarian action." Max raises a clenched fist for me to bump. "Nice!"
I think I'm pretty much done with this conversation. "Well, I've got to take off." Because I have better things to do- like track down Jordan and figure out why she ditched me and then, very possibly, kick Hartley's ass. Clearly I have a full, action packed night ahead of me and I'm itching to get to it.
Crazy gives me a big, toothy grin which kind of reminds me of a hungry piranha before they disappear inside the library.
Sliding into my truck, I quickly type in Jordan's name and wait for her address to pop up on my phone. And then I'm on my way. No chick blows off Parker Montgomery and lives to tell the tale. Actually... I'll accept any explanation that has absolutely nothing to do with Hartley.
It takes me about ten minutes to find her house and then an additional three minutes of simply staring at it before deciding that I'm actually going to go through with this.
Because what I'm staring at couldn't possibly be classified as a house.
Nope, this monstrosity is more like a huge Mc Mansion. Jeez.
But Mc Mansion or not, I'm getting to the bottom of why Jordan flaked on me today. So I ring the bell and wait. Loud chimes echo throughout the house.
I can't help but shift uncomfortably from one foot to another. I'm just about to push the bell again when the massive door swings open. And low and behold- there she is. Something within me tightens while simultaneously loosening. I don't exactly know how that's possible but apparently it is.
Well, at least we can cross car accident off of the list of possible explanations because she looks perfectly fine. And, I quickly assess, Hartley is nowhere in sight. Which is good news for that jackass. The guy won't be getting a beat down from me tonight. Of course, tomorrow is another story.
I seriously can't believe how happy I am to see this chick. It's a little disturbing actually. And if she wasn't standing right in front of me looking so damn delicious, like a big bowl of chocolate ice cream with hot fudge and whipped cream and sprinkles that I'm all but dying to take a massive bite of, I might examine those feelings a bit more closely. In all honesty, these feelings, which seem to be growing by leaps and bounds on a daily basis, should be scaring the crap out of me. Warning bells are going off in my head as we speak, demanding that I run away and never look back again, but I don't care.
Jordan's eyes widen at the sight of me before she throws a quick glance behind her. For some strange reason she doesn't look nearly as thrilled to see me as I am to see
her.
"Parker. What are you doing here?"
That seems to be the question of the day, now doesn’t it.
I make a big show of looking down at my cell phone before meeting her eyes again. "Well, Jordan, I was at the library waiting for my tutor but she never showed. Totally rude, huh?"
She winces before throwing yet another glance over her shoulder. Frowning, I wonder what's so damn interesting that she has to keep looking down the long hallway towards the back of the house. Maybe Hartley is here after all.
Grrrr.
She says quietly as her eyes skitter away from me, "I'm really sorry." Hmmm, this isn't typical Jordan behavior. At all. "I guess I lost track of time."
Since she hasn't exactly invited me in, I lean against the door all leisure-like. I am so not leaving until I have all the answers I've come for. This nervous, twitchy behavior isn't the Jordan I've come to know over the past couple of weeks.
"Can we, ah, make it up tomorrow night?"
I'm not about to let her off the hook until I figure out what's going on. Little does she know that I can totally get my Scooby Doo on when there's a mystery that needs to be solved. And Jordan is a total mystery to me. She always has been. I'm having the damnedest time trying to wrap my mind around this girl. You'd think she would throw me a bone for all my effort. But not Jordan. Nope, she's a total hard ass.
And we all know how much that gets me going...
I look around the room I'm almost standing in. It's ridiculously huge. And I don't know a whole lot about decorating, but I can tell that everything looks pretty fancy. Which is just another word for expensive. And that honestly surprises me because I totally did not get the rich bitch vibe from her at all. Usually I’m spot on with these things. Okay... maybe not the whole lesbo thing... but pretty much everything else.
"So why don't we work on it right now?"
For almost a full minute she chews on her bottom lip as she contemplates the question. I have to admit that it's a really sexy look on her. Yep, things are definitely starting to stir in my jeans which could end up being fairly embarrassing if she happens to notice. "I, ah, can't go to the library at the moment."
Confessions of a Heartbreaker Page 7